


Little Red

by SilenceoftheLlamas



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: I'm so sorry, M/M, Werewolf!Jazz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:52:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1232281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceoftheLlamas/pseuds/SilenceoftheLlamas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl takes an unexpected detour in the forest and has an unexpected encounter with a stranger that my be more than they appear...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a request ^v^ So loosely based on Little Red Riding Hood I'd be amazed if you picked up on it.

The first transformation always hurt.

Your body moved in ways it simply wasn’t _meant_ to, limbs and other features twisting, stretching and warping beyond recognition. Your teeth grey long, thick, and wickedly sharp, and all of your senses heightened to best track your prey. Vicious claws ripped through the metal protecting your digits and curled around like a scythe.

Memories blurred and became hard to access. With time, they became clearer and with practice never forgotten. It was easy to tell a newborn from a mature adult – the newborns were wild, killing everything that dare _breathe_ in their presence while the mature adults deviously stalked, calm and collected, after their next meal.

* * *

 

It was getting late. Very late, in fact, No mech in their right mind would be out knowing what lived in the woods, only the stupid.

Prowl was far from stupid.

He was just a little bit _lost_.

He had never been into this part of the forest before. Silently cursing his brother for tricking him into leaving the track and going into the thick undergrowth, thorns of the brambles scraping against his mesh and tearing the red fabric coat he’d been given to stay warm, he pulled aforementioned coat closer to him as he tried to find a clearing.

There was a rustling sound behind him, and Prowl elected to ignore it. It was probably an animal, like the last time. When it happened again, however, Prowl turned around.

He could see a pair of ears sticking up from the bramble, and what looked like a tail a little to the side of them. There was a rustle again and Prowl realized that the animal was most likely stuck.

Carefully moving towards it, he knelt down and began shifting the vines to get a better look at the ani-

It wasn’t an animal.

A big, wide golden visor stared right back at him.

Well, it wouldn’t do to _leave_ him there. Besides, he could really do with some directions. Maybe this mech knew the way out?

Prowl took an energon blade out of his subspace, trying to ignore the way the mech flinched and tried to shuffle away, before cutting through the plant and freeing the mech. Once they realized that they could move again, they sat up and stretched with a quiet mewl. Prowl found himself averting his optics.

“Thanks” The mech purred, planting his hands either side of Prowls thighs and leaning towards him. “How am I ever to repay such kindness..?”

The suggestive way the mech wiggled his hips and rubbed his tail up and down his thigh had Prowl coughing awkwardly and looking away again.

“I strayed from the path and cannot find it again. Do you think you could help?”

“You’ve strayed a long way from it.” The mech frowned, actions pausing for a moment. “You wont be getting back there any time soon, you’re closer to the edge of the forest.”

Well so much for visiting his grandcarrier. No more shortcuts endorsed by Smokescreen, Prowl promptly decided.

In a moment of cloud break, the moon illuminated the pair and Prowl got a good opticful of the sharp fangs that filled the mechs mouth, and he was immediately enthralled with them. He reached forwards, cupping the stranger’s cheek, and used his thumb to carefully push their lip up to get a better view.

“You have very big teeth.”

“Not the only thing about me that’s big.” He cheekily replied with a wink. Prowl decided to ignore it, wriggling away and standing up.

“I’d like it if you could show me the way.”

Pouting at the mech, the stranger also pushed themselves up. “Ain’t ya even gunna tell meh ya name?”

Prowl couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten. “My apologies, my name is Prowl.”

“Name’s Jazz, and I promise I don’t bite.” Jazz replied, murmuring “too hard” under his breath. Prowl nodded, pretending he hadn’t heard the last part.

They were silent as Jazz took the lead, the slightly shorter mech sauntering through the bramble with practiced ease. Prowl was having a bit more difficulty, not used to walking through the thick and thorny vines, but soon they came to an area that was dominated by tall metallic trees where the bramble didn’t grow.

Once the awkwardness had left, the two were easily conversing, the conversation going this way and that. Neither realized that they had come to the edge of the forest until Jazz suddenly leapt back, hissing in pain.

“What’s wrong?” Prowl asked, rushing forwards to inspect Jazz’s hand, which was smoking and slightly singed.

“Edge of the forest. Ah can’t go any further.” Jazz replied, sticking a singed finger into his mouth to lick it. Prowl felt a throb of heat between his legs but he couldn’t bring himself to tear his optics away.

The visored mech glanced at him and gave him a lecherous smirk, immediately knowing what he was doing to Prowl. Perfect. Maybe this time he could seduce the mech?

He repeated the same for all of his fingers on his hand, even the one that wasn’t singed at all, before placing it on Prowls chest and pushing him away from the edge of the forest. It wouldn’t do to accidentally brush against it – what a _terrible_ mood killer that would be. While _he_ may not be able to pass through due to his… _condition_ , Prowl could, and he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity that had so nicely presented itself.

“What’s wrong Prowler?” Jazz purred, slinking closer and pressing into him. He was inwardly delighted that Prowl didn’t flinch and back away. The taller mech was pleasantly warm, which contrasted greatly with their chilly late night surroundings.

Late night surroundings called for late night activities, and Jazz wasn’t going to let this one go.

Prowl didn’t reply immediately, instead looping his arms around Jazz’s waist- hands never straying down too low – before replying. “Just thinking of a way to repay your kindness, Jazz.”

Pausing a moment to pretend to think, coupled with a hum of contemplation, Jazz smiled. “Ah have an idea.” He replied, suggestively rubbing his inner thigh against one of Prowls outer, engine purring. The small hitch in Prowls breath told him that he’d won and that he was going to get exactly what he wanted from when he’d first seen the mech enter the forest with that annoying _brother_ of his. Yes, tonight would be most enjoyable.

Prowl appeared to approve of the idea as the next moment he had captured Jazz’s lips with is own, being mindful of the razor sharp teeth that were behind them.

Neither knew what had happened next, as they suddenly found themselves on the forests floor, entangled with the other, blindly searching for hotspots while gasping and moaning into the other. The red coat that Prowl had previously been wearing had been strewn away, now hanging from a nearby tree. They could get it back later, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Jazz released a low, wanton moan as Prowl nibbled and sucked on his throat cabling, driving him into a frenzy. He wanted the mech and he wanted him _now_. Tightening his legs around the others hips, he tugged the mech closer so that their hips ground together. Transferring thick streaks of paint onto the other.

Prowls doorwings fluttered and the mech quietly moaned, not wanting to attract any attention to themselves. Who knew who could go on a nighttime walk around the forest? _Anyone_ could see them.

And that chance, no matter how small, made it all the more thrilling.

Getting tired of waiting and just wanting Prowl to get the pit on with it, Jazz quickly reversed their positions with the speed only the changed would have and continued to insistently grind down on the mech’s panel.

The cold night air prickled his back cooling him down somewhat, but it was no match to the blazing inferno inside him, or more specifically, in between his legs.

If only Prowl would get the damn _message_!

It seemed he did, however, when his hands came to rest on his thighs and he slid a nimble digit under his hip plating, hooking it around for the manual override for his panel. Cheeky bugger.

Jazz watched as Prowl’s optics darkened when lubricants dribbled down his thighs and dripped onto the searing hot metal below, a low hissing sound following soon after as the fluid boiled.

Prowl’s finger gently slid out as his own panel opened, spike rubbing against the others aft.

They made eye contact, ice blue optics to golden yellow visor, before Jazz smirked and leaned forwards to whisper something crude in Prowl’s audial and positioned himself so that the rim of his valve was teasing the tip of the others spike. He placed one hand onto Prowls chest for balance and the other he intertwined his digits with Prowls.

Before he was able to slide down that delicious length, Prowl caught his thigh and stopped him from moving.

“You will hurt yourself.” He said, not allowing Jazz any downwards movement at all, even as his engine gave a distinct rumble when his optics flickered down.

“Ah like a tight fit.” Jazz easily replied, ears flicking in dismissal as he tried to wriggle out of Prowls grasp.

“I don’t.” Prowl countered, untangling his hand from Jazz’s and beginning to circle the rim with a single digits. Jazz whimpered, attempting to thrust himself down onto it, but to no avail. When Prowl felt he’d teased him enough, without warning, two digits were slowly slid inside.

And Jazz couldn’t stop his moan even if he tried.

Prowl smirked to himself as he slowly began pumping the two digits, making sure to drag over every node he could. Jazz thought that it felt _incredible_ , and was embarrassingly vocal about it, however it wasn’t _quite_ what he wanted. Enough pussyfooting, he wanted Prowl and he wanted him _now_.

“Keep that up Prowler and Ah’ll be done before we’ve even started.” Jazz panted, moving back against the digits.

“Good.”

Prowl began to move his digits faster, bumping against sensor nodes hidden deep within his valve. Jazz couldn’t help but release a breathy moan every time the sensor was stimulated, back arched.

To say he was caught by surprise with his sudden overload would be a lie, however Prowl certainly was when the valve clamped down so hard on his digits he could barely move them.

Jazz panted heavily as he slowly came down from his high, a fresh rush of lubricant trickly from his valve when Prowl removed his digits.

“Keep that up and Ah might not let ya leave.” Jazz panted, taking Prowls now stained hand and guiding it to the other mech’s spike, making him smear the lubricant over it. Prowl hissed, hips bucking at the sensation, however he didn’t protest. Licking his lips, he removed his hand from underneath Jazz’s thigh and repositioned it onto his waist as he smirked up at him. “You wouldn’t get any complaints from me.”

“And ‘ere Ah was thinkin’ ya were jus’ lookin’ fer a way out.” Jazz teased, pressing a kiss to Prowls lips before lowering himself onto the other mech’s spike, not stopping until their hips bumped together. Jazz released a satisfied sigh, wriggling his hips as Prowl bit down hard on his lip as he released a strangled sound of pleasure.

He was, quite clearly, still trying to be discreet about it.

“If anyone comes close” Jazz purred against his audial, “Ah’ll know before they can even hear us.”

That seemed to make Prowls mind up as he immediately nuzzled Jazz’s neck cables, exhaling shakily as he began to slowly and gently roll his hips in a steady rhythm.

It was quite a stark contrast to how he’d been working his magic with those deft digits of his, however he wasn’t giving Jazz much to complain about.

Prowl began to mouth at Jazz’s jaw, slowly making his way up to his audial horns where he nibbled and nipped his way up before enveloping the top with his mouth and sucked briefly. This elicited a gasp from the mech above him, valve fluttering.

“Don’t you dare.” Prowl growled, vibrations from his voice travelling through his audial. Jazz moaned, leaning into the touch and starting to move to meet Prowls thrusts halfway.

“Couldn’t stop it if Ah tried, Prowler.” Jazz replied, reaching up to play with the doorwings splayed out underneath Prowl. The mech moaned before he could stop himself, arching upwards and bucking his hips.

Within moments, the two simultaneously reached overload, Jazz arching and howling into the night while Prowl took the quieter approach of snarling out Jazz’s name.

* * *

 

“What on Cybertron took you so long? We were worried about you!”

Prowl resisted the urge to glare at his brother and simply pushed past him, ignoring him instead. Smokescreen snickered and went after him.

“Seriously though Prowl, what happened? I heard howling.”

Prowl barely stopped his doorwing from twitching, knowing full well that he was the reason for said howling. “I found the edge of the forest and drove the rest of the way.” He snapped, still annoyed with his sibling.

“… Where’s your coat?” Smokescreen asked, noticing the distinct lack of the bright red fabric garment.

“It got stuck in some brambles, I had to leave it.” Prowl quickly lied, opening a door at the end of the hall he was walking down. “Now, I’d like to get some sleep seeing as I didn’t get any last night.” Prowl stated, punctuating it with a glare before closing the door behind him. Smokescreen winced. Yup. Prowl was mad.

He didn’t even begin to suspect that Prowl had done anything more or that he had lied.

The reality of it was that Prowl had given Jazz the red coat – he didn’t look too happy with the thought of Prowl having to leave and had made him promise that he’d come back.

Prowl could still feel the phantom sensation of the mech’s clawed hands on his doorwings, lightly teasing the surface of them.

Before Prowls thoughts took a more unsavory route, he was suddenly distracted by a sharp burning sensation on his left hand. Hissing in pain, Prowl jerked his hand into view just in time to see the paint bubbling on his palm. Watching in morbid fascination, Prowl saw the paint change colour to be dark blue and in a strange design he’d never seen before.

What the..?


	2. Chapter two

Prowl had tried everything, but nothing was working. He couldn’t get the symbol on his hand to disappear.

He didn’t understand what it was nor why it was there, but he knew one thing.

He had to see Jazz again.

The moment he woke up, he began to clean himself up and refuel. They had agreed to meet where they had parted ways the previous night, and so that was where Prowl headed.

No one was there. Prowl tried to not feel too put out – after all, they never specified a time – and Jazz probably had other things to do. Things by far more important than fragging a Praxian stranger.

What was he _thinking_?! He wasn’t here to interface, no – he wanted _answers_.

Prowl sat down and leaned against a tree, sensing a long wait ahead of him.

* * *

Prowl didn’t realize that he had fallen into recharge until he woke up with a warm weight curled up against his side and a warm breath ghosting over his shoulder.

Jazz was back.

He looked down, expecting to be greeted with the obsidian pair of ears he saw the night before, only to see a pair of audial horns instead.

What…?

They looked exactly like Jazz, however they were lacking ears, a bushy black tail, teeth that could only be described as fangs and blade-like claws.

“Ya’re cute when ya sleepin’.”

They also sounded exactly like Ja-wait, what did he just say?

“Excuse me?”

Jazz giggled, onlining his visor to a bright blue. “Ya cute.”

“Oh.” Typical Prowl. He wasn’t entirely sure how to react, and instead of being clever about it and formulating a proper response, he just _had_ to look stupid instead. In his haste to cover up his blinder, he returned the favour.

“You’re cute too.”

And now he had to resist the urge to shoot himself in the face, because there were many far better things he could have said instead. To Jazz’s credit, he didn’t appear to be too perplexed by the comment and instead giggled, cuddling up closer to Prowl.

“Aww, thanks Prowler! Ah’m flattered!” Jazz cooed, tracing shapes onto Prowls thigh. “Ah am curious though. What made ya come back so soon? Did ya miss meh?”

That’s right – what was he here for? Prowl paused for a moment, momentarily distracted by the hand on his thigh before he noticed the marking on the other mech’s palm. He had it too.

“Not long after I arrived home, a strange mark appeared on my hand.” Prowl replied, bringing the hand up to show Jazz. “I wanted to know what it was.”

Jazz paused, his whole body freezing.

“Jazz?”

The mech didn’t reply, and quickly looked between Prowl and his hand before slowly slinking away from him. Prowl found himself wanting to scrabble closer to the mech and not lose contact with him, but stiffly controlled himself. He had no idea what the impulse was being driven by and it wouldn’t do to succumb to it.

“Ya promise ya wont get mad?” Jazz quietly replied, slightly crouched as though to sprint away at a moments notice. Prowl nodded without so much as a second’s thought.

“I promise.”

Jazz relaxed, although he didn’t close the distance between himself and Prowl. “It’s a marker. It shows that ya mine.”

Prowl nearly choked on air.

“A _what_?” He’d heard of markers before – how couldn’t he with the ‘ _family business’_?  And he knew _exactly_ what they were. He’d just never _seen_ one before, and had never been told how they formed. They showed more than who belonged to whom – they were an open warning sign. ‘Do not touch’, in a sense. He’d seen what happened to those who ignored it as a youngling, and it was an experience he never wanted again.

Jazz nervously grinned, twirling his fingers. “Well, Ah’m sure that ya’ll be jus’ fine?” He tried, trying to sound much more confident than he felt.

It wasn’t working.

“I know what they are and what they imply, Jazz. Neither of us will be ‘ _just fine_.’ I’ve seen what happens.” Prowl snapped.

“Ah’m sorry, Prowler. Ah knew the risks.” Jazz meekly replied, looking down at the ground.

Prowl found the anger that had slowly been building up dissipate in an instant. He was angry for what had happened. In a single instant, he’d been tied down and permanently bound to the mech who sat before him, his freedom stripped away. But he was not angry at Jazz.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Prowl meekly offered. Jazz looked up at him, visor dim.

“Nah, Ah deserved it.” He replied, looking down briefly before locking optics with Prowl. “How much about it do ya know?”

“It’s something that dictates property. We are tied to each other and cannot bond nor interface with anyone else.” Prowl replied, shrugging at the end. “I have not been taught any more than that. My creators saw no need to.”

Jazz froze. “Ya creators?”

“Yes, I was taught this among many other things regarding the changed as a youngling.”

Jazz audibly swallowed and looked ready to faint. “An’ just what is it that ya creators do for a livin’?”

“Their sparks extinguished vorns ago. They were hunters, died on the job.”

“What did they hunt?” Jazz asked quietly.

Prowl pulled a face, brow crinkling and the corners of his mouth twitching downwards. “I don’t know. They never told me, kept me safe. My brother continued where they left off, while I was already working with the enforcers.”

Without a single word, Jazz immediately leapt to his feet and began to back away from him. “Ah know what they were huntin’.”

“It wasn’t animals, was it?” Prowl asked, also getting to his feet. Jazz laughed mirthlessly and shook his head.

“Nah. It was mecha like meh. Ya said ya brother picked up where they left off, right? So he’s also huntin’ us. Funny ya ended up ‘ere.”

“I was under the impression we were visiting my grandcarrier.” Prowl admitted. “I had no idea…”

“Thank ya, Prowler. For lettin’ meh know.” Jazz replied, finally closing the distance between himself and Prowl again. He gathered Prowls hands into his own and held them close to his spark, but not close enough to touch. “Ah’ve gotta go now. Ah need ta tell the Alpha.”

Prowl looked disappointed but nodded, leaning down to steal a kiss. “How will I be able to contact you again?” Lack of contact wouldn’t do. He knew that they’d be constantly driven to find the other, and would slowly go insane until they held the other in their arms.

“Ah’ll come to you.” Jazz grinned, visor flashing. “Ah’m bonded to an unchanged. The barrier will let meh through.”

Prowl nodded and stepped back from Jazz, allowing his hands to slide from his grasp. “I will be seeing you later then.”

“Don’t let ya brother see ya hand.” Jazz warned as he stepped back. “An’ keep ya window open.” He added as an afterthought before turning and transforming, speeding away.

* * *

Jazz could feel his spark thudding against its casing. It was beating so fast, faster than he thought was possible.

And he was terrified.

Navigating the tunnels, Jazz made a sharp left and continued down a tunnel that was full of roots that clawed at his paint, scratching it away. Ignoring the slight irritation it caused, Jazz pressed on until he reached an open room and transformed.

“ _Alpha_!” he cried, unable to stop the tremble in his legs. “ _Alpha_!!”

There was a rumble from a tunnel just ahead, and the panel covering it slid away. Jazz immediately clambered into the tunnel and ran through it and into the much larger chamber that lay at the end, skidding to a stop on the metal floor.

The room was by no means elaborately decorated. In front of Jazz, ten paces away, sat a giant mech who could only be described as a titan sat upon a pile of ripped up plants, a few blankets thrown over for good measure. Their optics were a dark amber, and their chassis was painted a dark green with a few splashes of gold here and there.

The walls were lined with bookcases crammed with datapads and nic-nacs, and the only light in the room came from torches that hung from the ceiling.

“ _There’s a hunter here_.” Jazz panted, chest heaving. “ _It’s not safe for us to leave the den_.”

The mech sitting on a large pile of ripped up plant matter looked up from the datapad he was reading. “ _How can you be so sure_?”

“ _I met a mech, and I learned of his brother. A hunter. They’re here, in the forest_.”

The giant mech hummed, a deep noise that vibrated through Jazz’s chassis, and nodded. “ _I_ _will alert the others. In the mean time, come here. You look as though you need comfort_.”

Jazz nodded and carefully padded towards the mech, careful to not let them see his hand. He didn’t want to think about how he would be punished for being marked by someone outside of the pack.

But an Alpha is nothing if they are not observant.

The moment Jazz was close enough, they swooped down and grabbed hold of his wrist, tugging it up and drawing a yelp of pain from Jazz. Dangling helplessly like a doll, Jazz could only wriggle and whine as his palm was scrutinized by the Alpha.

“ _I didn’t authorize this_.” He snarled, turning to glare at Jazz. “ _Who is it_?”

“ _That’s not_ _important_!” Jazz gasped, whimpering when the Alpha tightened his grip.

“ _Yes, it is. Tell me. Now_.”

“ _Please_ _let go Alpha, you’re hurting_.”

“ _Not until you tell me. You’re hiding things from me, Jazz. Now of all times you are hiding things_!” The Alpha snarled back, voice slowly rising until he was shouting, oral lubricant spraying from his mouth and wetting Jazz’s face.

“ _Please_!”

The Alpha growled deeply, the sound echoing in the chamber and making Jazz physically vibrate. Jazz swallowed hard, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the piercing pair of optics that were glaring so hotly into his own.

“ _The mech who warned me_.” He quickly spluttered. The Alphas temper was worn thin, and Jazz wasn’t dumb enough to push him past the breaking point.

“ _You dirty little glitch! You fragged a mech for telling you his brothers occupation_!” The Alpha roared, throwing Jazz at a bookshelf. Jazz released a sharp cry as he collided with the object, grunting when the contents of the shelves fell off onto him.

“ _Ah met him last night. There was a trap set in the brambles ‘n’ Ah got stuck in it. They helped meh out_.” Jazz ground out as he picked himself up. “ _Ah helped him get to the edge of the forest and it went from there. Not planned, an accident_.”

The Alpha wasn’t interested in any explanation Jazz had to offer and stalked towards him, stamping on his hand. Jazz bit down on his lip to stop the scream that threatened to rip free from his throat.

“ _Get out of my sight. I will decide your punishment later_.”

Jazz didn’t hesitate to scramble to his feet and run out.

* * *

 

Prowl had spent his day in his room, reading datapads, completing some work and playing card games with himself. Smokescreen knew he was still annoyed at him and had wisely stayed away, entertaining himself with whatever it was he did. But given Prowls rather _insightful_ conversation with Jazz, he now had a better idea. Most likely cleaning his guns and polishing his silver.

Their grandcarrier had gone into the town to buy some more energon and some other supplies they needed, and Smokescreen had gone with them to help with the load. So Prowl had the house to himself.

He barely flinched when he felt someone slip in through the open window, and turned with a smile on his face to greet Jazz when he stopped in his tracks as he took in the dents and scratches on the mech’s frame.

“Primus, Jazz-!” Prowl whispered, scrambling towards him.

“Ah told the Alpha, he’s gunna put the den on lockdown. No one in, no one out.”

“What about you? Surely you’d prefer to be there than here.”

“It’s not gunna be until sundown, there are too many of us roaming around outside at the moment.” Jazz replied, allowing Prowl to gather him up and pull him onto his lap. “Ah’ll also be getting’ a lot a bad looks from everyone for a lil’ bit, Ah’d rather be here than hidin’ away in my room.”

“Why would you be receiving bad looks?” Prowl asked as he began to rub circles on Jazz’s back.

“Ah’m markered by someone outside the pack. First black mark.” Jazz replied, sighing and relaxing into Prowls frame. “An’ then even worse, Ah did it without permission. Second black mark.”

Prowl didn’t reply, continuing with his hands movements, although he made a small noise to let Jazz know he’d heard and was listening.

“An’ third black mark. Ya’re not a changed. Ya normal. It’s not _natural_.”

“Are they aware I hold hunters coding?” Prowl asked quietly, unsure himself if Jazz was even aware of that fact. The way Jazz tensed was incredibly telling.

“Ya _what_?”

“Why did you think I was not afraid of you? I am what others would call a ‘pure-blooded hunter”, although I never saw the allure in it.” Prowl admitted.

“Ah didn’t know that.” Jazz mused. “Ah’ve never met any other normal who aren’t hunters while Ah’m changed.”

Prowl nodded, his marked hand reaching up to wrap around one of Jazz’s. Their palms brushed, and they simultaneously gasped, bodies jerking at the sudden bolt of pleasure that shot down their backs.

What the…?

Prowl looked at Jazz’s palm and saw it was the one that had been marked.

Theory forming in his mind, Prowl traced his fingers over the marking and watched in awe as Jazz immediately gasped and began squirming in his lap, panting into his chassis.

“Primus, Prowler please!” Jazz gasped, grip tightening on his other hand. “Don’t tease me like this!”

“Teasing?” Prowls fingers paused.

Jazz nodded into Prowls neck, twisting himself so that he was straddling Prowls lap. “Teasin’.” Jazz confirmed as he brought Prowls hands to his lips and kissed it, causing Prowl to gasp and arch up and away from the wall, doorwings violently trembling.

“I… I can see what you mean.” He breathed, locking optics with Jazz. The other mech simply grinned before sitting down firmly in Prowls lap.

“Ya probably wont be seein’ much a meh for a lil’ bit. Not until we’re sure that it’s safe for us.”

Prowl nodded, wrapping his hand around the outside of Jazz’s. “Stay for a little while?”

* * *

 

Jazz had woken up to a pleasant tingle and his thighs coated in telling evidence. Prowl was deep in recharge, his face relaxed in a way that made him look at least fifty vorns younger and his arms thrown over Jazz to keep him close. Reluctant to wake the slumbering mech, Jazz wriggled out from under them before quickly cleaning himself up and leaving him a note before slipping out of the window.

The stars were already beginning to appear and Jazz knew that he didn’t have long until he was locked out of the den. Increasing his speed, Jazz pushed on.

A mech was waiting for him at one of the entrances, and smiled when they saw him, quickly waving him in before sealing the entrance behind them.

“ _Ya nearly missed it mech, Ah kept this one open fer ya. Don’ let anyone know that, though. It’d be meh helm_.”

“ _Thanks, mech_.”

“ _Were ya off visitin’ ya pretty mech_?” they teased as Jazz transformed, receiving a playful punch to his shoulder.

“ _Ya’re just jealous_.”

“ _Sure, sure_.”

Jazz laughed, patting them on the shoulder. “ _Did the Alpha wanna see meh or am Ah a free mech_?”

“ _Nah, he didn’t say anythin’ about wantin’ ta see ya_.”

“ _Good. Ah am_ exhausted.”

“ _Ah do_ not _wanna know_.”


	3. Chapter three

Prowl woke up finding himself unwilling to do anything.

His hips were stained, his doorwings still tingled and he felt like lead. Summoning the energy to move, he lifted his hand with the marker on it and quietly scrutinized it.

While many would most likely be mad, even furious that they’d been locked down and bound to someone else after a one-night stand, Prowl found himself not being able to care. He was the kind of person whom nobody thought much off. What they did think was more often than not rude, often dancing on the line of Prowl being a drone or a malfunction.  Not that the mech minded at all. The more people stayed away the better. There would be no distractions from his work and he could complete his duty.

As his infamy and lack of emotional responses may suggest, Prowl didn’t have anyone he was close enough with to call anything more than a friend. Of course, there was always his family, but as to whether or not they were simply just tolerating him until he moved out Prowl didn’t know, and he found himself not particularly caring either.

And so, Prowl was wondering what to do with the situation he had found himself in.

Suddenly, he was a bonded mech (Prowl was thankful that it wasn’t a spark bond – he didn’t think he’d be able to take a somewhat-stranger being able to feel his emotions and know what he was thinking at any given moment) and he had a sworn duty to them. He had to protect them, he had to be there for them, and most of all, the one Prowl feared the most, he had to _love_ them.

Love was not something Prowl did.

He _cared_ about others. Despite his outward demeanor he cared about everyone. It was why he had the job he did – an enforcers sworn duty was _protect_ _and_ _serve_. They were the three words he lived by.

Prowl could only hope Jazz wouldn’t get too upset about this. Upsetting the mech was the last thing he wanted to do.

* * *

 

Jazz slowly staggered back to his room.

In the early hours of the morning, before the stars had fully risen, Jazz had been summoned by the Alpha. Sleepily shaking off the last dregs of recharge, Jazz made his way down to the chamber the Alpha usually resided in to be promptly met with his pede smacking him down into the ground.

And it had all gone downhill from there.

The hostile mech hadn’t held back, and Jazz was starting to wonder how much worse it could have been if the Alpha had punished him the moment he had found out he was a bonded mech.

He wouldn’t have seen Prowl, that’s for sure.

While he did want to leave the den and crawl back into Prowls berth, hopefully with the other mech, his survival instinct was telling him that it was a terrible idea and he should stay in the den if he wanted his helm to stay firmly connected to his shoulders.

A few moments after he’d managed to fall onto his berth, Jazz began lazily searching for the medical kit he always kept nearby. As a general unspoken rule of his pack, if you were injured through crossing the Alpha, you were on your own. So, Jazz was expecting no obvious sympathy from anyone, nor was he expecting any help.

Although he’d never admit it, at least not aloud, he missed Prowl.

* * *

 

Everything was silent.

It wasn’t the kind of silence that curled around you in an attempt to swallow you, stifling and leaving you gasping for breath. No, this silence was empty. If a pin were to drop, it would most likely echo.

The stars had long ago sunk below the horizon, allowing the feeble light cast by the multitude of moons that orbited the planet to bathe over the landscape with their milky glow.

Then, the spell was broken as a small group of three mechs noisily made their way through the brambles. A few of the brambles had fragments of a red fabric caught in their thorns, and one of the mechs tore it away to inspect it.

“He definitely passed through here.” They said, lifting it up. Another mech, who was blue and red with a yellow chevron and doorwings hiked high up on his back turned to inspect it and immediately nodded.

“Yep. That’s Prowls.”

“What do you think the chances of him disabling the trap are?” The third mech asked, inspecting the sliced branches of the bramble that Prowl had cut two nights ago.

The red and blue mech shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest. He only knows the bare minimum. What we were told as younglings, basically. He couldn’t have known it was there, nor what it was.”

“Well, at least your assumptions were correct. There is a den in this forest.”

“Excellent. I wonder if there will be any with bounties?”

“I heard the Alpha does. He’s not one you want to get into a fight on your own with.”

“I’m sure if we corner him on his own we’ll be okay.” The blue mech replied. “Hound, see if you can track the scent in the trap.  Mirage, scout with him. Watch his back.”

Mirage nodded and activated his disrupter, melting away from view and turning invisible. Hound knelt down by the trap and delicately sniffed it before exhaling gently and filling his intakes with his next breath. “Should I call you when I’ve located the den?”

“Yep. I’ll have to be going back now so it doesn’t get suspicious. The others are under the impression we’re here on visiting terms.”

“Be seeing you later then. Take care.”

“Same to you, make sure nobody sees you.”

And with that, the blue and red mech turned on his heels and strode away, whistling a tune he had heard that morning on the radio as if he were just taking a stroll through the forest before recharge.

* * *

 

His hand was aching.

Jazz hissed and flinched as a sharp barb of pain shot through his hand, making his wrist and fingers spasm. This was painful.

As it was, Jazz couldn’t leave. Nobody could, not even the _Alpha_. Not within the forest, anyway. There were tunnels – ancient, yes, but they weren’t collapsed just yet – and they lead away and outside into the town.

Jazz could still remember the town from when he was young, before the barrier was erected to lock him and mecha like him inside the forest. The different smells and the colours and the ones who lived there. None of them knew any better and often treated the youngling to energon goodies and scraps of whatever they could spare.

The tunnels were open for them to freely use – for whatever reason, the barrier didn’t seem to affect them – however they were closely guarded by the Alpha and they were reluctant for them to be used. They were old, older than the elders, however they still held strong.

The only problem with them was that they were built like a labyrinth.

The true path was long worn into the floor through use, however many still strayed from the path and were never seen again.

Given the dens lockdown state, the Alpha was even more reluctant to let his mechs use the ancient tunnels. There were a mere handful of mechs who were still willing to go into the town anyway, given the threat of the hunters that were lurking around above ground, so the tunnels remained relatively unused.

However, given the throbbing pain in his hand, Jazz was contemplating going to ask permission to see Prowl and ease the insistent reminder on his palm.

* * *

The Alpha was surprisingly understanding and allowed Jazz to leave through the tunnels.

Absently, Jazz realized that the Alpha himself was a marked and bonded mech, even going as far as to form a Spark-bond with another. Their mate was rarely seen, however, but Jazz knew that they were still alive.

Jazz transformed back from his vehicle mode into his bipedal, and took ten steps into the town before he was suddenly grabbed and tugged into an alley with a loud yelp.

A hand suddenly clasped down over his mouth, muffling any sound that threatened to escape, and Jazz was _incredibly_ tempted to lick it. Not that it’d get him anywhere, but hopefully if they were disgusted enough they would let go.

Jazz began to struggle, limbs flailing everywhere, before his arms were pinned to his sides by an arm wrapping around his middle.

“ _Stop it_.” the other mech hissed into his audial. “ _You’ll give us away_!”

Jazz immediately stopped resisting when he recognized the language the other spoke. They weren’t a normal mech.

Slowly, Jazz turned his head to look at the mech behind him and started.

“ _Hound_?”

Hound grinned meekly and carefully let Jazz go, setting him gently to the ground again. “ _It’s been a while_.”

“ _We all thought ya were_ dead _, mech_!”

“ _No, not dead. Although I will be when the Alpha finds out what I’ve done. He despises me anyway_.”

“ _Hey, not ya fault ya a halflin’_.”

Hound shifted uneasily. “ _It’s not just that, Jazz. You see, while I was… away, I met a mech called Mirage. He introduced me to some other people who seemed interested in my abnormal sense of smell_.”

“ _What did ya do_?” Jazz asked, a sense of foreboding settling over him.

“ _I joined them on a few trips. They told me they were just hunting animals, and I believed them up until I found a scent I recognized. I didn’t realize just_ what _they were hunting until it was too late_.”

“ _They were huntin’ us, weren’t they_.” It wasn’t a question.

“ _Yes. And now, I’ve caught onto your scent. I distracted Mirage and sent him off to the other side of the forest to scout ahead for me, but I don’t have much time. I’ve got to go soon_.”

“ _Hound, what are ya gunna do? Ya can’t just expose the den_ -“

“ _There are old dens I can lead them to, hope that they get lost or pretend that the trail goes cold. If not, then it’s predicted to rain tomorrow. The scents will be washed away_.” Hound replied, uneasily looking around himself.

“ _Do what ya can. Ah won’t tell the Alpha if ya don’t want me to_.”

“ _I’d rather you didn’t._ ”

“ _Understood_.” Jazz grinned. “ _It’s good ta see ya again, even if ya… well, ya didn’t know. Ah can’t blame ya_.”

“ _I will never understand why you are so kind, but it’s still great to see you too. I’m glad you’re okay_.”

Jazz was about to reply when suddenly his hand flared up again, his fingers twitching and wrist flicking. Jazz hissed in pain, shoulders hunching slightly.

“ _Jazz? Are you okay? What’s wrong- oh, Primus Jazz_ -!” Hound squeaked as he turned the twitching hand around and saw the dark marking on his palm. “ _You’re marked? Who with? Was it Blaster? I remember you two were pretty close_.”

“ _No, not anyone from the pack. Not even part of one_.”

“ _An unchanged_?” Hound quietly asked, fearing the answer he’d get. Jazz simply nodded, not trusting his vocalizer.

“ _Ah don’t get it, it hasn’t even been a full_ cycle.” Jazz whimpered as his hand throbbed painfully again. He wondered if Prowl was having the same problems as he was.

“ _It’s different between changed and unchanged_.” Hound replied, gently uncurling Jazz’s digits from where they were clasped to his palm. “ _I remember my creators having the same issues_.”

“ _What did they do ta get it ta stop_?”

“ _There’s not much you can do. Over time the pain lessens each time you’re separated, and you can go longer, but in the early days there’s nothing to do but sit on the others lap and hope for the best_.”

“ _Somehow I doubt he’s gunna let meh do that_.”

Hound simply shrugged and checked his chronometer before swearing aloud.

“ _Frag, I’m sorry Jazz. I’ve gotta go – Mirage is expecting me any minute_.”

“ _Nah mech, Ah understand. Just please, do not let the Alpha see ya with a bunch’a hunters_.”

“ _I’ll try my best_.” Hound said, walking away from Jazz and towards the forest.

Jazz envied the mech. As a Halfling, he didn’t need to worry about the barrier or changing when he saw a full moon. The worst he got was a bad case of the nibbles. Wincing at the persistent ache in his hand, Jazz slowly left the alley and plodded over to where Prowl was.


	4. Chapter four

_Little Red_

The sound of running water echoed in the wash rack. Jazz silently sat on the floor, the ache in his hand somewhat lessened, and waited for Prowl to finish.

Prowl himself was unaware that Jazz was even there, not hearing the mech climb in through the small window with the racket the water was making as it rained down onto his plating. Scrubbie in hand, Prowl was scrubbing away at himself in a last ditch effort to make himself look reasonably presentable. He had lazed around in berth for too long, leaving the fluids to stain his hips.

And they did.

While his grandcarrier would likely not notice, Smokescreen most certainly would and he refused to allow that to happen. Smokescreen wouldn’t get off his back about it, excited that Prowl had finally loosened up a little.

While he technically _had_ loosened up, he wasn’t about to let Smokescreen know. He’d want every single little detail and would stop at nothing in order to obtain it.

And now he knew that his brother was here on a hunting trip, he certainly couldn’t let him know.

After a few minutes of vigorous scrubbing, the stains were finally washed away and Prowl could shut off the water.

He turned around and stepped out of the cubicle only to promptly stumble back into it, yelping in shock, when he saw that he was not alone. Jazz was still sat in the corner, knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them to pull them in closer.

There were weld marks on his arms, helm and legs. Prowl couldn’t see his chest and abdomen, but he hoped there weren’t any there too.

Jazz jumped when he heard Prowl yelp, helm shooting upwards with his visor bright in shock.

“Sorry, did Ah scare ya?”

“Just… just a little. How long have you been here for?” Prowl asked, kneeling down beside him.

“Just got here.” Jazz replied, shifting slightly to be closer to Prowl. The closer he was, the less and less his hand ached and the faster the pain ebbed away. “Ma hand was hurtin’, so Ah came ta see ya. Is yours at all…?” Jazz trailed off as he realized Prowl hadn’t shown any inclination at all that his mark was hurting.

“I shut off the receptors in that hand. I can’t feel it at all.” He replied, biting down on one of his fingers as if to emphasize his point. “Why didn’t you do the same?”

“Ya not meant to shut them off, it builds up and comes at once when ya turn ‘em back on.” Jazz deadpanned, internally groaning.

“Oh.” Prowl simply replied, looking down at his hand. “Would you mind if I turned it back on now?”

“Go ahead.”

Prowls optics dimmed, a sign that he was rooting around inside for the coding that would reactivate the pain sensors in his hand. This was then quickly followed by-

“OH SWEET PRIMUS”

* * *

 

Jazz had found the whole escapade overall quite amusing.

Prowl had rolled around on the floor holding his hand whilst swearing his head off, clearly not prepared for the backlash. When he was done, he childishly pouted at Jazz, optics narrowed.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself so much.” He huffed, gingerly flexing his hand. The pain was gone, the ache overall dulled. It was still lingering there, although Prowl suspected that it would fade away to nothing quite quickly.

“Oh Ah am.” Jazz giggled, holding his sides. Every so often he would wince and his breath would hitch, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Prowl.

“You’re hurt.” He said, suddenly sitting up and starting intently at the mech still curled up in the corner of the washrack. Jazz froze, visor brightening.

“What makes ya say that?”

“Well for one you’re covered in welds.” Prowl bluntly began. “Then there’s how your breath keeps on hitching and you’re wincing whenever it does.”

“Ah may have gotten into a little scrap with someone-“

“I may not have joined the hunting profession but I know enough about your culture to know that so long as the Alpha wasn’t involved, someone will help you do your welds and you would have likely been tended to by the packs medic.” Prowl replied as he stood up and walked over to Jazz, crouching next to him again. “So you did something to anger your Alpha, which is not a ‘little scrap’ as you call it.”

“What’s it ta ya” Jazz grumbled, looking away.

“Important.” Prowl snapped back, trying to persuade Jazz to uncurl. “Did you run away from the den? Or did you get permission to leave?”

“Why do ya wanna know?”

“I would like to know so I can prepare if I have an angry Alpha making a beeline to my grandcarriers house. For starters, we can’t let Smokescreen see them.”

“Ah got permission, he was strangely compliant. Ya wont get any Alpha’s comin’ here.” Jazz replied, eventually allowing himself to uncurl from the tight ball he was wound up in. Prowl visibly relaxed when he saw that there weren’t any welds on his chest or abdomen.

At first glance, that is.

Prowl was about to turn away to try and get Jazz to show him his back when he noticed a small weld that looked as though it was coming from underneath his bumper. Leaning down slightly and looking underneath it, he saw a large laceration that took up at least two thirds of the length of his bumper.

“How did you get that?” Prowl asked, pointing at it.

Jazz shrugged, wincing at the pain the motion caused. “Ah don’t know how Ah got half of ‘em, Prowler.”

He was silent for a few moments, mulling over a sudden thought. “The mark, is there any way for us to cover it up? Would painting it work?”

The thought that he was so eager to hide it stung a little, but Jazz didn’t show it. “Paint does work, but it burns off after a couple’a hours.”

“I’d like it if you’d allow my grandcarrier to take a look at your wounds. She was a trained medic.”

“There’s somethin’ else though, ain’t there?” Jazz asked, noting how Prowl wouldn’t look him in the optic.

“She was also in the hunting profession. She quit after a bad injury that was inflicted by the Alpha in this forest.”

“What is it wit’ ya family?!” Jazz demanded, shrinking away from him. “Ya just trin’ ya get meh killed-“

“It’s not as if I like it either! I’m surrounded by mecha who know how to kill me with a screwdriver in fifty different ways!”

“An’ you don’t?”

“Not fifty. Now, stay here. I’m getting the paint.”

Prowl stood and left the washrack, returning a few moments later with two small tins of paint and two brushes.

“Ya sure it’s gunna match?” Jazz asked, comparing the colour on the outside of the tin to the colour of his hand. While Prowl had a jet black finish that contrasted greatly with his pure white, Jazz’s was obsidian.

“I can mix the two until they do.” Prowl replied, opening both tins and placing a dollop of the white paint into the lid of the black, repeating it with the black paint before mixing them together. “Now, seeing as I can’t simply bring you downstairs, we have to plan something.” Prowl began, gently moving Jazz’s hand so it was flat. “Are you able to climb out of the window again?”

“Ah should be able ta.”

“Good. Hide in the bushes, or wherever you would prefer, and I shall leave the house with the story of going for a late night walk.”

“Won’t she find that unusual?”

“I always used to do it when I was younger, I see no reason for it to be strange now. Then, we can come back with the story that I found you.”

“Not too far from our first encounter.” Jazz replied with a wink.

Prowl simply pressed his lips together and didn’t comment.

Jazz frowned at him, question forming in his mind. Whether or not he was going to voice it Jazz didn’t know. He wanted to, but he wasn’t sure he’d like the answer.

“What’s bothering you?” Prowl quietly asked as he applied the last of the paint. Jazz twitched, not aware that Prowl had noticed.

“Nothin’. So, how do we explain my injuries?”

Prowl gave him a look that showed he wasn’t going to be believing Jazz any time soon. “Up to you. You could feign memory loss, or we could tell a half-truth and say you encountered an Alpha, although that may cause more problems than it solves.”

“Ah’m not gunna sell out my pack, Ah wont mention them.” Jazz firmly replied. He wasn’t going to give any indication that he had seen them at all – he refused to put them in danger.

“Memory loss it is then. I hope you’re a good actor.”

* * *

 

Prowl quietly closed the gate behind him, his grandcarrier informed that he was going on a walk. He noticed the curtain move at the window, their face peeking out from behind. Throwing them a small wave, Prowl continued onwards into the dark forest.

Out of sight from the house, Jazz emerged from behind a tree when he heard Prowl coming.

“Ah still have no idea what Ah’m gunna say.”

“If you can’t think of anything by the time we get there, I’ll do the talking. I just hope she buys it.”

“Have ya got a reputation as a lair?”

“No, but my brother does.”

“Ya should be just fine then.”

“We can hope.”

Prowl supported Jazz against his side, arms under his shoulder while Jazz threw his arm over Prowls shoulders. “Just try and behave yourself. No inappropriate groping, no comments, no innuendos.”

“Aawww, if Ah knew there were that many strings attached Ah wouldn’t have agreed!”

Prowl rolled his optics, not bothering to retaliate.

By the time they had reached the gate again, Jazz was barely holding back the fit of giggles that threatened to escape and Prowl was seconds away from dumping the mech on the floor and kicking him repeatedly. The perverted mech just couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and Prowl was almost certain that he was only doing it to make the whole ordeal that much harder.

“Remember what I said.” Prowl quietly growled into Jazz’s audial. Jazz purred in return, pressing in closer to Prowl before the doorwinger squeezed his hand, tightening his grip on him, and Jazz reluctantly pulled away.

The door opened quickly, and Prowl managed to maneuver the two in before calling for his grandcarrier.

The femme came in quickly, and Jazz was sure that he had seen her before. A very dark grey, she had blue highlights and a golden chevron. What caught Jazz’s eye the most were the multitude of scars that marred her frame, one of them running from the corner of her lip and up towards her audial so her mouth was trapped in a permanent smile.

That is, until Jazz looked down and saw her legs. One of them was clearly fake, and Jazz swallowed hard. A murky memory file came to mind, one that was hard to remember and barely there, but Jazz remembered where he had seen her before.

He wondered if she would recognize him, despite the vorns that had passed.

“Prowl?” She asked, suddenly coming to a halt when she saw Jazz. “Oh Primus! Is he okay?”

“I found him outside, he says he can’t remember how he got there.” Prowl replied, subtly shifting his stance to better support Jazz.

“Take him through to the kitchen, sit him in one of the chairs. I’ll go get the medical kit.” She ordered, quickly turning and limping away. Jazz noticed then the scars on her back where the hinges for her doorwings should have been.

“She used to have doorwings?” Jazz quietly asked as Prowl lead him into the kitchen.

“All Praxians do, femmes included.” Prowl replied.

Jazz couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. He’d known mecha to go mad after the loss of their wings. She was either hiding her distress very well, or she had already grown past the loss.

“I hope this will be enough.” The femme said as she joined them, pulling up a chair so she could sit beside Jazz as she worked on him. “What’s your name?”

“Jazz.”

“Do you remember anything at all?” She asked, carefully inspecting the wound under his bumper. Jazz hissed, breath hitching again.

“Not a lot. Ah heard somethin’ outside, an’ Ah went ta investigate. Next thing Ah know, Ah’m layin’ face down in the dirt in the forest with no idea as ta how Ah got there.”

“Sounds like you were attacked by something. This place is crawling with strange beings, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them found themselves in the town.”

“What kind’a strange bein’s?” Jazz asked, feigning curiosity. Prowl gave him a look, but kept silent.

“Well there are the simple things that don’t do you any harm, like the Wisp’s and the Fae’s. I’m often finding them in the garden playing in the crystals.” She began, applying a numbing gel to the wound under Jazz’s bumper. It looked as though she had decided that the others were okay to be left as they were, but this one was one that needed the most attention. “There are others that are bigger but you don’t get any of them around here, which is disappointing. You did where I used to live.” She mused. “What you do get however are the much bigger ones that look just like you and me.” Her face darkened. “The changed and the leechers.”

“Th’ _what_?”

“The worst things to encounter. Both can hide and mingle amongst us, changing form when the time is right. Leechers sustain themselves by drinking energon from living cybertronians and are perfectly happy to steal spark energy. Changed are much worse, they’re grotesque.” She shuddered.

“Would you like me to explain to him later?” Prowl offered. She nodded.

“I believe that would be best, Prowl.”

Jazz gave Prowl a quizzical look, thoroughly confused. He didn’t think he was that bad. Prowl just shrugged. The entire exchange went by unnoticed by the femme as she worked away. Jazz couldn’t feel any pain, but he could feel what she was doing, and quite frankly it felt quite weird.

There was a loud click as the front door opened again, and Smokescreen strolled into the kitchen just moments later.

“The weather’s perfect out there- Oh? Who’s this?” He began, pausing for a moment when he spotted Jazz.

“This is Jazz. I found him while I was on a walk. Jazz, this is Smokescreen, my brother.” Prowl replied, gesturing between the pair.

“Pleasure to meet you. Sorry if my brother bored you, he’s not too much of a talker.” Smokescreen replied, cheekily tweaking the tip of Prowls chevron. Prowl simply smacked his hand away and glared at him.

“Ya should talk more, ya voice is nice.” Jazz replied, cheekily grinning at the now thoroughly embarrassed Prowl.

“See! He agrees!” Smokescreen cheerily replied as he hopped into a chair himself. Their grandcarrier allowed a laugh to escape them.

“Now now, mechs. Behave yourselves. I’m not going to repair anyone else tonight.”

“Spoil sport.” Smokescreen huffed.

“While you’re under my roof you’re under my rules, Smokey.” She retorted.

“Fine, fine!” He replied, holding his hands up. “I’m going to go hit the sack now, so if you need me knock loudly.”

“Night night, take care to not wake me up again tomorrow. I do not appreciate early wake ups.”

“Sure, sure.”

“G’night Smokescreen.” Jazz chirped, giving him a quick wave.

The mech strolled out of the kitchen, and when he got upstairs the trio heard him loudly yawn.

“He needs to start getting enough sleep.” Their grandcarrier groused as she finished up the repairs. “Now, don’t strain yourself too much. You’ll need to go see a real doctor soon about that. You’re also welcome to stay here for as long as you need.” She said, packing away her equipment. “Prowl, could you take him upstairs?”

“Certainly.” Prowl replied, moving to help Jazz stand again before leading him upstairs. Instead of taking him to the guest room like his grandcarrier probably intended, he slipped into his own room instead.

Jazz promptly made a beeline for the berth, flopping down onto its plush surface.

“Ya berth is comfier than it should be.” Jazz remarked, voice heavily muffled. He released a sigh, slowly rolling onto his back.

“What is it?” Prowl asked as he closed the door, moving to sit on the end of his berth.

“That was more nerve wrackin’ than Ah thought it would be.”

“How so?”

“Ah recognize her. She’s called Stormcloud, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is. Have you encountered her before in this forest?”

“Yeah. Ah don’t remember it too well though, Ah just remember bein’ scared an’ there bein’ a lot of energon.”

“If she had recognized you, she would have said something.” Prowl assured him. “I don’t think you’re in danger.”

“Ah’d hope so.”

Jazz glanced down at his palm and saw that the paint was already starting to fade away, the lightly coloured marking underneath starting to come through.

“Ah’m glad that she didn’t notice the paint. That would have ended badly.”

“I must admit I am not sure what she would do.”

“Earlier she said somethin’ about leechers. What are they?”

“I thought you knew?” Prowl asked, optics brightening slightly in surprise. “They’re creatures who can’t go into areas of starlight. They feed from energon from live – or deactivated – bodies. Bite mecha to get it, pierce the skin. It’s where they get their name. The marks they leave behind are very distinctive.”

Jazz nodded. “Ah’ve never encountered one. Ah know they’ve got this whole rivalry thing wit’ mecha like me, but they don’t really come here anymore.”

“If memory serves me right, it’s because they’re scared of your Alpha. He’s responsible for the cull that happened here before either of us were born.”

“Speakin’ of my Alpha…” Jazz purred, quickly moving to straddle one of Prowls thighs. “He didn’t let me leave just ta come say hi.”

“What happened to ‘you probably won’t be seeing me for a bit’?” Prowl teased, allowing Jazz to make himself comfortable. The mech visibly blushed, energon rushing to his faceplates.

“That was before Ah knew it’d hurt this much.” Jazz grumbled, moving to nuzzle at Prowls nose. “Ah’ll be honest, Ah don’t know what we’re gunna do. Ah can’t keep comin’ back n forth.”

“We’ll work something out. I’m more worried about when I have to go back to Praxus.”

“Ya not stayin’?”

“Not my choice, I can’t. The only reason I’m here is because I was made to take holiday.”

Jazz visibly slumped. “Ah… Oh. A-are ya sure ya can’t?”

“I’m sorry.” Prowl tightly pressed his lips together, looking down. “I would ask you go back with me, but I’m sure there’s a rule about packs staying together.”

“There is. Ah’d be considered a deserter.”

“Do you know if this will ever stop?”

“Eventually. Ah don’t know how long, but when it does establish we can spend longer apart. Apparently it’s different between species.”

“I take it that it doesn’t happen often.”

“So rarely they don’t bother tellin’ us about it. How long until ya leave?”

“Just three cycles.”

“Make it up to me?”

Neither heard the door click open as Prowl leaned forwards and captured Jazz’s lips with his own. It was the sudden wolf whistle that made them jump apart, both immediately looking at the door to see Smokescreen leaning against the doorframe, fanning himself with his hand with a playful grin on his face. “Wow, it’s getting hot in here! Damn, Prowler. Didn’t see that coming from you.”

Prowl was trying his hardest to not furiously blush, but even his best efforts couldn’t stop the pink hue that coloured his face.

“What did you want?” Prowl asked as normally as he could, ignoring the position they had been caught in. Jazz was still perched on his thigh, looking decidedly awkward, hand with the marking on it now firmly planted on Prowls forearm. He’d try his hardest to stop it from being seen, that much he’d decided.

“I was going to ask where your black paint was. I need to touch up a few places.”

“It’s in the bathroom, top shelf.”

“Thanks.” Smokescreen replied, tromping into the bathroom and collecting the paint. “Now, don’t let me disturb you. Have fun!” He chirped, quickly closing the door before Prowl could throw anything at him.


End file.
